What you think does matter

The first slam against the outpost door was deafening, reverberating through the stone walls and shaking loose a small cloud of dust from the ceiling beams. It was followed by an eerie silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the rapid thudding of my own heartbeat. Evelyn spun toward the door, her daggers glinting in the dim firelight. Her jaw was clenched tight, and the muscles in her neck stood out like cables under strain. She wasn’t scared—that wasn’t the right word. She was ready, coiled like a spring about to snap. “What was that?” Brady’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the panic in it was unmistakable. “Werewolves,” Evelyn said simply. She didn’t even look at him, her focus fixed on the door. My mouth went dry. The thought of those creatures—hulking, feral, and unstoppable—on the other side of that fragile wooden door made my stomach churn. I could almost see their glowing eyes in my mind, smell the wet fur and blood that clung to them like a second skin. Ano...